


Violets are Blue (Veilchen sind Blau)

by bethskarsgard



Category: Atomic Blonde, Bill Skarsgard - Fandom
Genre: Additional Tags To Be Added As Story Progresses, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Grammatical errors, Grief/Mourning, Slow Burn, a few German words added for context because why not, age gap (19 vs 27), plot heavy, referenced cold war espionage & counterintelligence, some blood & carnage, translations (if any) at bottom of chapter(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethskarsgard/pseuds/bethskarsgard
Summary: A failed mission leads to unexpected consequences.
Relationships: Gordan Merkel/Original Female Character
Kudos: 5





	1. Prelude to Coda

She bathed with roses red, and violets blue,

And all the sweetest flowers, that in the forest grew.

-The Faerie Queene; Sir Edmund Spenser (1590)

Small hands clutch his shirt while she sleeps. Her slender fingers are taut in the fabric, his limbs curled around her as they lay together. Its a bed intended for only one, nothing more than a glorified cot, yet he still found a way to fold his long body onto it. Sleeping anywhere other than by her side wasn't an option, despite his discomfort.

It’s cold, so cold outside the cabin, and not much warmer in the one room that comprises the entire space. He found a few matches in the back of a cupboard drawer in the makeshift kitchen, and the fire he started in the cast-iron wood stove is only now beginning to put off a bit of heat. Meanwhile, the storm picked up, the wind blowing hard enough to rattle the windows in their frames, so he pulls her closer against him, tucking her head in under his chin.

With only two thin blankets for covering, it’s their shared body heat that warms them. She’s still wearing his fur coat, which now smells as much of her sweet floral essence as it ever did of him. She’s only removed it once since he first draped it over her shoulders back in the city before they fled, and that had only been to set it aside long enough to bathe in the small bathroom hidden behind a partial wall.

Their shared breath comforts him as he drifts into unconsciousness, and he knows that if there is even the slightest of possibilities that he could feel this level of peace in the face of so much turmoil, for even one more day in his life, that everything about to happen will be worth it.


	2. Smoke and Mirrors

Merkel lit another cigarette and leaned forward to slide the ashtray already overflowing with spent butts across the floor and closer to the chair he was sitting in. He took a long drag, the tip glowing bright red, before exhaling a cloud of smoke. ‘The best laid plans of mice and men’, he mused to himself, and focused his eyes to peer through the grimy window at the forest surrounding the cabin.

Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to. Things rarely ever did, but this mission had failed spectacularly. They were all dead. Well, nearly all, and he was lucky to be alive. If he’d arrived to the safe house ten minutes earlier he very well may have been gunned down, too.

Instead he was holed up here with the only other person to survive the disaster that was Fialka. It was the only place he was sure they wouldn’t be found, at least not for a few days, maybe even a week, though he had no plans of sticking around long enough to find out.

This place was off the books, off grid, and untraceable. Once a hunting cabin it now lay abandoned in the thick forests to the north of Berlin, about a half day’s walk in from the nearest road. He’d taken possession of it and the land surrounding it under a false name not long after being assigned to East Berlin, back when the Wall still stood dividing east from west. He’d meant for it to be an out, an escape hatch, if he ever needed one.

And now here he was, chain smoking and taking the occasional shot from the half empty bottle next to him, the light from the sun’s rays growing dimmer through the branches as the minutes passed by.

He needed to get them out of Germany, and then further north, where if they were lucky they could board a shipping vessel. It was a tentative plan, but it was the best he had at the moment. Berlin and most of Germany were still crawling with Stasi officers and spies of all nationalities. Neither of them would be safe until they were as far from central Europe as possible.

He had contacts that could get them out, people he could rely on, so long as there was something in it for them. The problem was, to get their help he’d have to return to Berlin, then make it back here undetected. He couldn’t take the girl with him, but leaving her behind was just as risky. If he didn’t make it back there was no way for her to make it on her own. As strong as she was she’d already been through enough, but that didn’t mean she would take the news well, and he’d have to once again remind her who was in charge.

He stubbed out his spent cigarette before lighting another.

Across the room she shifted restlessly in her sleep, mumbling something unintelligible before going silent once more. He wanted to go to her, stretch out beside her on the thin mattress and snuff out all thoughts of the danger they were in while running his fingers through her hair. He wanted to pull her flush against his body and taste her sweet breath once more as it fanned out across his chest. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and shield her from the world outside these four walls that they would soon enough be forced to face. He wanted all these things. He wanted them, and much, much more.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling her hand reaching out to take his, the way it felt as they laced their fingers together, how very small she had seemed with soft doe-eyes and flushed skin. Her whispered, ‘I trust you,’ had felt like a blade sliding into his heart, a sharp pain followed by an unfamiliar warmth that radiated throughout his body, and in that moment everything changed.

The training he’d endured at Langley, the years he’d spent in service to the cause, his adherence to protocol and every rule he’d followed for the past seven years, none of it mattered if it meant he had to give her up. He honestly had no more fucks left to give. If her life was to be left to fate then his would be as well. So he’d squeezed her hand, and together they had entered the dark underbelly of Berlin, making their way through the sewers and abandoned tunnels that led them out of the city.

He reached for the bottle, poured another shot and knocked it back. In the last remaining light he made his way across the room. The wind was picking up and the temperature was dropping. She was still asleep as he lifted the covers enough to slip in beside her. He didn’t need to tell her anything about the plan tonight. All that mattered was that they were together right now, alive and as safe as they could be, wrapped in each other’s arms.


	3. Blood Rose

Days later he could still smell the blood, that copper scent that hung heavy in the air as he’d checked for signs of life among the dead. The mission had failed, and the scene Merkel found might not have been the worst he’d ever encountered but it ranked among them. And it had happened under his watch.

The door to the flat was ajar when he arrived and he had a pretty good idea what he’d find on the other side. With a firm grip on his gun he slowly eased the door open a few more inches. The first thing he saw was a large man in the center of the room bent over a body, rifling through the coat pockets. He fired off one round that entered the back of his head and watched as he crumpled to the floor face first. The man hadn’t even see it coming but Merkel knew he wasn’t in the clear just yet.

He took one step inside, using the toe of his boot to push the door back into the position it’d been in before he got there. It was highly unlikely that the man he’d just shot was alone. The Soviets were bent on retaliation and they’d take extra measures to ensure the results they were looking for. Merkel knew he’d have to take care of any others before they had a chance to leave, if they weren’t gone already. He expected not, as It looked like what had occurred here had only just taken place.

Five paces and he was positioned at the wall that separated the front room from the hallway. The heavy thud of boots could be heard approaching before the second assassin turned the corner. He came face to face with the barrel of Merkel’s silencer and a slug that blew a hole right between his eyes. A Rorschach pattern of blood, bone and brain matter splattered across the wall behind him.

A quick check of the remaining rooms showed no one else that would cause him any trouble, only a vacant bedroom and bath. Then he was kneeling over bodies, pressing his fingers against pulse points and closing each individual’s eyes before moving on to the next. There were two adults, a third if you added his associate, and three children. There was a boy and a girl, aged eleven and seven, and a baby still wrapped in his mother’s arms. All dead from gunshots, the carpeting they lay on soaked through with their blood. Six bodies in total, leaving one unaccounted for. The eldest daughter.

He’d taken their passport pictures less than an hour earlier, a husband and wife and their four children ranging from ages four months to nineteen. In one of the inside pockets of his coat he carried their passports, new identities that they no longer needed.

He’d stayed behind at his workshop to finalize their documentation while they were moved on to this safe-house only a few blocks away. It wasn’t routine, but the younger children were becoming fussy and needed food and rest before their travels later that night. It had been a last minute decision. His decision. One he’d have to face the consequences for once Langley got the news, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. He needed to locate the girl.

He found her after a more thorough search, huddled behind a stack of coats and sweaters in the bedroom closet. He tried coaxing her out but when she refused he reached in and drug her out by force. Another mistake. He seemed to be making a habit of them.

She couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet but she was frightened and in full fight-or-flight mode, and proved to be exceptionally strong for her size. She fought him, and fought hard, trying to rip herself free and bolt for the open bedroom door.

Merkel did the only thing he could think of and pulled her flush against him. She flailed her arms and legs, hammering at his chest and shoulders with her fists and managed to land a blow square into his left jaw. Next she kicked at his shins, trying to raise her knees enough to reach his groin but he spun her around and locked her in his arms before she got in another lucky strike. That was when she sunk her teeth into his forearm and clamped down until she broke the skin. A string of German expletives fell from his lips as he drug her back until they slammed into the wall behind them and slid down to the floor.

‘I’m on your side,’ he tried to reason with her, her teeth still attached to him. ‘God Dammit, let go off my arm you hellcat,’ he hissed when she bit down even harder. ‘Verdammt noch mal, I’m the one who took your picture.’

That last part did the trick and she released his arm, breathing hard with a mouthful of his blood still on her tongue. She hadn’t given up the fight though, turning her head as far back across her shoulder as she could to spit in his face. Most of it landed on his chin, a red mix of blood and saliva that slowly dripped down to stain his shirt. 

‘You can let me go now,’ she complained, twisting feebly in in his grip as she finally ran out of steam.

‘Oh, I don’t think so kleines mädchen. I think we’ll just sit here for a couple minutes until I’m sure you’re not going bolt for that door the moment I let you go,’ he replied. ‘And don’t think for one second I don’t know that’s exactly what’s running through your head,’ he added.

She gradually began to calm while he tried to assure her that he had no intention of hurting her. He told her that she was safe, though that was only to soothe her. He needed her to trust him if he was going to get them both out of the building safely. So when the back of her head come to rest against his chest and her breathing evened out he allowed himself a small sigh of relief and relaxed his tight hold on her. She didn’t make a move to distance herself from him though, and they sat in silence for a few minutes, his strong arms looped loosely around her waist.

Merkel didn’t know how much she’d witnessed, or if she’d seen anything at all before hiding herself away, but there could be little doubt she was in shock. That wasn’t something he was equipped to deal with right then, nor at all. The subtleties of comforting someone who’d just witnessed the slaughter of their entire family didn’t quite fall within his skill set. Besides that, it wouldn’t be long before more men were sent, alerted when their comrades didn’t return with news that the job had been carried out successfully. That gave him precious little time to get them as far away as possible.

‘We need to go,’ he said, adjusting them both so he could stand. She didn’t respond, seeming to not understand the urgency, only gazing blankly at the floor as he towered over her.

‘There’s no time to waste. We need to be out of here before more of them come.’

At that she got moving, scrabbling on all fours towards the closet a few feet away, and Merkel, not understanding that her intention wasn’t to hide, reached down and took hold of her arm before she could get that far.

‘Nein, not happening. We’re leaving. Both of us, now.’

She gave him a furious look when she failed to wrench loose from his grip. ‘My bag, arschloch. I need my bag.’

He raised an eyebrow at the insult but released her, watching as she clambered into the closet. A few seconds later she retrieved a small canvas bag from amongst the clothes, looping the strap over her head so it was secured across her opposite shoulder. He had no idea why the bag was so important to her, nor did he care. It was time to go, and he still had the task of walking her out of the flat and past the carnage in the main room.

On her feet now, she watched as he retrieved his glock from an inside pocket of his dark coat, tightening the long cylinder of the silencer and checking the magazine for rounds. She flinched at the audible click when he pushed it back into place, and again when he insured the chamber was clear. It was only then that he meet her gaze.

‘You know what happened out there,’ he said, taking the look in her wide eyes as confirmation that she understood his words to be a statement rather than a question. She knew, of course she did, and along with the fresh recollection of screams and gunfire came her realization that he was all business now. 

Merkel had spent the better part of his adult life embedded behind enemy lines. Preparing his mind and body for risk - and that included being shot dead or worse - had become as routine for him as flipping a light switch. It wasn’t lost on him that he’d been almost gentle with her while he held her on the floor, but that didn’t have any bearing on what needed to be done now.

For her this sudden shift in demeanor was unsettling, and it brought the danger of the situation into sharp focus, as if it hadn’t yet been real enough. When he narrowed his eyes at her she tried to swallow the hard lump that had formed in her throat, managing to give him a small nod, but the tightness was spreading into her chest and it was becoming difficult to breathe. The room was too warm and the thought that she might never draw another breath clawed its way up her spine. She didn’t even realize she was shaking. Her fingers felt numb though, and her arms had a weird tingling sensation.

With everything that was happening it seemed odd to her that her attention was inexplicably drawn to how much larger he was than her, how very small and vulnerable she must appear with him looming over her. And his eyes. They were focused on her with an intensity she wasn’t accustomed to. She was afraid, frightened in a way she’d never been at any other time in her life. And there was this man, a stranger to her not ten minutes ago. He was standing right in front of her and she knew he was going to protect her, keep her safe. He wasn’t going to let anything hurt her.

It happened quickly, though for her the moment felt immensely longer. She couldn’t feel her legs anymore, or anything else for that matter. It was all gone. The only thing left behind were a pair of green eyes staring into her own, and then the room tilted on its side.

~~~

German to English:

 _verdammt noch mal_ : Damn it all

 _kleines mädchen_ : little girl

 _arschloch_ : asshole


End file.
